The Favor

Karl Devon is enamoured. “What is it that all women want?”

I chew on my bottom lip, then answer. “To be wanted.”

He raises a brow, like a skeptic. “But you have millions of men who want you.”

I smile, raising my glass to him. “Ah, they want the characters I play, but none of them really want me.” I peek over at Emmett, who’s talking to Warren.

Karl Devon follows my gaze. “Or maybe you want someone in particular to want you?”

He knows, and I blush hard. “Maybe.” I take a sip of my drink, letting it cool me down. But then Emmett is back at our table, and my temperature quickly rises.

“What did I miss?” he asks, sitting back down in his chair.

Karl Devon smiles. “I want her for my movie,” he tells Emmett.

My breath hitches and Emmett and I share a look of happiness between us.

“Really? That’s great. I’ll get everything set up,” Emmett says, shaking Karl’s hand.

And just like that I’m in a Karl Devon movie. I want to scream, or hug someone. Particularly, Emmett.

I smile at Karl Devon. “Thank you. I can’t wait to make this movie with you.”

He takes my tiny hand in his. “The pleasure will be all mine.” And then he kisses it before walking away.

Emmett just sits back, smiling. “Wow it’s a Christmas miracle. What did you say to him?”

I wink. “I was just my usual charming self.”

Emmett gazes at me from over his drink, his brown eyes eating me up. “I believe that.” He sets his drink down and leans closer. “Hey, that stuff you said about thinking you’re average. Is that true?”

I pick at my drink’s coaster along the table. “Yeah, sometimes.”

He grabs my hand, sending a chill up my spine, and brings it closer to him. “You’re anything but average.”

I don’t know if it’s the timbre of his voice, or the intensity in his eyes as they stare at me, but chills skate across my skin.

My phone pings in my pocket and I glance down. “Everything’s all set up,” a text message reads from Warren.

I let go of Emmett’s hand, knowing he just agreed to go and hook up with some stranger. My mood depresses. “I should probably head home,” I tell him.

His eyes hold mine. “What about dinner?”

I wave a hand. “I’m not that hungry. Go on without me.” I try to force a smile, but it’s just not in me.

Walking away from the table, Warren gives me a thumb up and I try to smile again. I should be ecstatic. My plan is working. All the details can be worked out. But the main thing is Emmett is in. And he’s about to be in me.

I should be jumping up and down. I should be dancing and high-fiving myself.

But, there’s an emptiness that’s settling deep inside, and I can’t shake it.

I remind myself this exactly what I want as I rush to the valet. I toss him my keys as his eyes bulge.

“Sera...Sera...Seraphina. Right away,” the young valet stutters through his words.

“Abby,” Emmett’s voice calls from behind me and I spin around.

“I’m a little overwhelmed. I just need to get home and let it process that I’ll be in a Karl Devon film.”

Emmett rests his hands on my shoulders. “Let me get some food in you.”

I want to say yes more than anything because saying no to Emmett is becoming harder and harder to do, but I know if I go to dinner with him I’ll put a move on him. Try to see if he might cancel his own plans with me. Oh my god, I’m jealous of myself. I push away the silly thoughts. “No really, it’s ok.”

Emmett leans back, dropping his hands. “I won’t take no for an answer.” He calls for the valet. “And I won’t let you go home hungry.” He turns his head. “Warren, take my car home.”

Warren nods, and my Mercedes pulls up and the valet opens the driver’s side door.

“Fine,” I say, “but, I’m driving.”

He laughs, moving around to the driver’s side. “Not a fucking chance in hell.” And he slides into the leather seat like he owns it.

Another valet appears, opening the passenger side door, helping me inside and shutting the door.

“I do know how to drive, ya know?” I tell him.

He smiles at me. “What kind of agent would I be if I didn’t pamper you in every way possible.” His eyes hold mine, and I feel like there’s a hidden meaning in his words. Or maybe I’m hoping there is.

I turn away from him, clicking my seatbelt on. “Where are we going, anyway?”

Emmett slams his foot on the gas, peeling out of the club’s valet drive. “You’ll see.” He pulls his phone to his ear. “Yes, two filets, med rare. Yes, Ok. Sure.” And then he hangs up.

And at the sound of filet my stomach growls. “Ok, I guess I’m a little hungry.”